Chapter 24
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
COLTER
I anxiously glanced up and down the sideline, looking for my girl. She hadn’t messaged since I told her about the surprise I’d left. The Magic eight-ball toy and wolf keychain weren’t much for someone of her status, but I’d hoped she’d like the sentimental value, anyway. I’d left the Magic eight-ball on “All signs point to yes” with a sticky note that asked if Mer would enjoy her date tonight. I’d been so confident when I’d hid it in her locker, but now I felt foolish. She hadn’t come to kiss me before the game started. So, had she hated it?
“Donovan, get your head in the game!” Coach yelled, and I jumped back to attention. Holden scowled, his mood plummeting the longer Mer didn’t show. We hadn’t had time to discuss the new development between them, but I knew it had to mean something if he was willing to send me pictures of them in bed.
Thoughts of what they’d done whirled, and my cock twitched against my cup. Now was not the time to get turned on!
I nodded as the play was discussed, but I had no clue what anyone had said. Holden nudged me with his shoulder, and I vowed to focus. I might not care about winning games, but he did. Holden needed the team to do well. So, for my best friend’s sake, I’d focus and worry about Mer later.
Thankfully, our defense held the Bulldogs on third down, and special teams took to the field to receive the punt. I bounced on my toes as we waited to see where we’d take the field. The kick was caught on the forty-yard line, giving us a decent starting position. The offense ran onto the field, slapping the special teams as they left, and lined up in formation.
I bent my knees, my hands resting on my thighs, and immediately fell into game mode as I waited for Holden’s familiar cadence. I often wondered if, years from now, I’d hear his deep rumble in my sleep.
“Blue, 42. Blue, 42, hut.”
The ball was snapped, and I took off, focusing on the D-man I was meant to block. I shoved him, watching intently for the rest of the play. Spinning out, I ran around the outside when I spotted a hole and looked back to Holden just as the ball landed in my hands.
It hadn’t been the play called, but with Holden and I, it didn’t need to be. The second I saw the intended target—the wide receiver—blocked, I found a hole and took it.
With the ball secured in my arms, I took off, conscious of the defender on my ass. My legs pumped, and I could feel the Bulldogs closing in, so I jutted left and went out of bounds. I’d made it to our thirty, giving us the first down. Out of breath, I tossed the ball to the ref and headed to the sideline. Jacobs jogged onto the field in my place, and I took the offered water bottle from the team manager. I watched the next play, eager to return to the field as the Bulldogs defense held our guys to two yards.
“Donovan, you’re back in,” Coach shouted, and I trotted out onto the field before he finished. Holden nodded, slapping my shoulder in the huddle .
“Double Right, 200 Jet, Dragon.”
We all nodded, breaking apart and lining up. It was in these moments that I loved the game. The quiet serenity before the ball was snapped, the anticipation of the play, and the execution of everything we’d trained for.
“Green 18, Green 18!”
I took off like a lightning bolt, zagging left then right, and made a post route to midfield. I was wide open, and when I turned, the ball soared toward me just as I knew it would. Reaching up, I pulled the ball into my hands and cradled it as I took the last few steps into the end zone.
It wasn’t my first touchdown as a Hayward Wolf, but it would be the first one I’d made with a girl watching. Turning to the sideline, I searched for her as my teammates congratulated me. My smile slipped when I didn’t spot her, a nagging sensation filling me.
Something was wrong.
“That’s how it’s done!” Holden shouted, and I forced a smile, running to join him on the sideline. The coaches slapped me on the back, and I took another bottle from the manager.
Holden pulled off his helmet, and I did the same. His smile was bright, and I wanted to bask in it with him. But I couldn’t shake this feeling. Had I overplayed my hand? Did she only want to date Holden? Was I just another stopgap until a girl met the one they really wanted to be with? When would I be enough?
The quarters went by quickly, my morose thoughts taking up all my brain space. We’d scored two more times and were up 21 to 3 at halftime. The team jogged off the field and headed to the locker room. My feet were full of lead, but I trudged along. I needed to text her. If I could talk to her, then I’d know where I stood. Decision made, I couldn’t get my hands on it fast enough.
Colter: Mer, what happened? Are you okay?
It felt like a lifetime as I waited for her to respond. Coach droned on about staying focused and not letting their O-line get any yards, but I tuned him out. The irony wasn’t lost on me, but I needed to know. Finally, the dots danced at the bottom and my heart restarted at the sight.
Merbear: I know the truth. You don’t have to pretend any longer.
What the fuck? Frowning, I typed as fast as my fingers allowed.
Colter: Did you get my gift? I know it was corny, but I’m not pretending.
Colter: Meet me after the game and we can talk.
Merbear: I don’t think your fiancée would like that.
Again. What. The. Fuck? My heart rate sped up, another message coming through before I could respond.
Merbear: I was only fooling myself, believing a guy like you would like someone like me.
Colter: I’m so confused, Mer. Nothing you’re saying makes sense.
Colter: You’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met.
Colter: Of course I would fall for you.
It was quiet for a while, my texts left on read, and I waited with my heart in my throat.
Merbear: Goodbye, Colter.
Colter: Mer… don’t do this. Let’s talk. I’m not giving up on you.
I sent another, but it came back as undelivered. Fuck! She blocked me. Something was seriously wrong. Tears pricked the back of my eyes, and the room spun as dizziness swarmed me. Unbridled fear engulfed me, quickly followed by uncontrollable anger, and the two fought for control.
“Have you seen Mer?”
I spun, my eyes wild as I took in the freshman. Rivers . I hadn’t thought anything was happening between them, but his question right after she blew me off was too much, too soon.
“Why do you care, Rivers? Stay the fuck away from my girl!” I shoved his chest, taking him by surprise.
He threw up his hands. “Whoa! We’re friends, Donovan. I’m just concerned since she didn’t come onto the field.” He swallowed, his concern genuine, and suddenly, I realized I’d been going about this in the wrong way. They were friends; he might know more than I did.
“Wait.” I scrutinized him and crossed my arms. “What do you know? Why would you be concerned about her not showing?”
His eyes flicked to Holden, and I instantly knew. Hope .
“Fuck.”
Blood pounded in my ears, followed by a high-pitched sound I was certain only dogs could hear. Running my fingers through my hair, I sat on the bench and tried to calm my mind.
But nothing worked.
The wariness I had before the game grew, and I knew something had happened. The urge to run to her overpowered me, and I was glad I’d sat down as the floor shifted beneath me. I didn’t want to stay here if she was hurt. But there was no way I could leave in the middle of a game without repercussions. Jumping up, I paced, my thoughts running faster than I could process them.
“What is it?” Holden asked, eyeing me before scowling at Cody. I snorted. We were too alike sometimes.
“I’m concerned about Pe—Mer,” Cody said.
Holden’s face hardened, and I stepped between them so our backup QB didn’t end up on IR during his first game.
“They’re friends. We have to trust Mer,” I whispered. Holden’s eyes searched mine, his jaw twitching, but he stepped down. I turned to stand beside him, our shoulders touching as we faced Cody.
“What do you know?”
Cody held up his hands in a surrender gesture. “Not much. Or, I know about,” he gestured at us, “but not why she’s MIA.”
“You insinuated Hope had something to do with this,” I added, peering at Holden from the corner of my eye.
“Um,” Cody stalled, his eyes bouncing between me and Holden.
“Spill it,” Holden demanded.
“You know Hope’s been bullying Mer since high school, right? Leaving roses and notes, making her think she has a secret admirer. Picking on her, recording things, and then sending them to everyone. That video on Monday, Hope was the one recording.”
Holden’s jaw hitched hard, to the point I worried about his molars, but he nodded, shocking me.
“Why doesn’t she say anything?” I asked.
Cody scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, because people believe you when you tell.” There was enough emotion behind his words that I knew it wasn’t all for Mer’s benefit.
“But Mer’s rich,” I said and then instantly regretted it. How dumb was I to think you didn’t have problems just because you had money?
“I’m not even going to acknowledge that,” Cody scoffed.
“After the game, I’ll confront Hope. I already planned to speak to her, anyway.”
My gut sank. I knew we couldn’t leave, but waiting for another two quarters felt like an eternity.
“Yeah, okay.” The wariness didn’t dissipate, but I shoved it out of the way. Get through the game.
The three of us lined up with the rest of the team and headed out of the tunnel. The Wolfettes and cheerleaders stood on the sides of the field, chanting together as we re-entered. I met Hope’s eyes and had to school my features. Her saccharine grin had my stomach churning, and only knowing she was Holden’s sister kept me from running over to her and demanding she tell me what she’d done.
Thankfully, our team was a well-oiled machine, and we easily fell into the gameplay. I blocked defenders and found openings to gain yards. I caught, I ran, and I blocked. Over and over. I didn’t think about anything but football, knowing the quicker I got through the game, the sooner I could see my girl.
Hopefully, she’s still your girl.
Finally, the game ended, and we won 45-10. One game under our belt, eleven more to go.
In some unspoken agreement, the three of us showered quickly, but Holden and I got pulled for the press conference, delaying our exit.
“That was some great playing out there today, Holden. How are you feeling this season?”
“I feel great. I’m in the best shape of my career and plan to play the best football possible.”
“Your connection with Donovan is special. Do you guys practice a lot? ”
“We’re close friends and know how to read each other. It’s a bond you can’t teach,” Holden said, smooth as ever.
“How are you feeling about this season, Colter? Do you plan to go to the draft?”
“I feel good about our team. We’ve worked hard to get to this level.” I didn’t elaborate, hoping they’d drop the rest.
After a few more questions, they finally dismissed us, and Holden and I jogged out of the stadium. Luck was not on our side, and we were waylaid by Hayward students wanting to congratulate Holden, girls slipping us their numbers to shoot their shot for the night, and the least unexpected guest waiting, his mom.
“Holden! Great game, honey,” Rose gushed, hugging her son once we made it through the group of girls. I scanned the parking lot for any sign of Hope, but didn’t see her. “Have you seen Emmy?” she asked when she withdrew from the hug.
“I thought she was supposed to be the mascot,” a man I didn’t know said. Based on his arm around Rose’s shoulder, I assumed it was Mer’s father.
“She said she wasn’t feeling well,” I supplied when Holden said nothing. “Hi, I’m Colter,” I said, introducing myself to Mer’s dad.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Milton, Emmy’s dad. You’re friends?”
“Yeah. We met when she visited campus at the beginning of August.” He nodded, but I didn’t know if he knew anything about his daughter’s life.
“Have you seen Hope?” Holden asked, eyeing his mom.
“She’s around here somewhere.” Rose looked over her shoulder, but turned back when she didn’t find her. “She was waiting for you, Colter.” Rose smiled, like she thought I was sweet on her daughter.
I was, just not that one.
A group of girls in Wolfette uniforms, football players, and Zeta girls emerged from the middle gate, laughing loudly, and drawing our attention. Standing in the middle of their little group was Hope, holding court.
Holden took off toward his sister, his steps long and with purpose. I jogged behind him, needing to witness this for myself. Cody spotted us and broke off from the group he’d been waiting with.
“Have you seen this?” he asked, intercepting me.
“What?”
He showed me his phone, and I stopped to read it. It was an article in the Hayward Chronicle published around the start of the game.
The Truth about Hayward’s Mean Girl by Emerson Adams.
“Oh, shit.”
I read over the article, my eyes scanning the material as quickly as I could. I couldn’t believe some of the accusations, but with each claim, Emerson added evidence either in text or photo. She never outwardly said Hope’s name, but if you knew her at all, it was easy to put the pieces together. The whole thing was shocking, but it was the vulnerability in the last part that hit me.
A bully utilizes your fear, conditioning you to take the abuse they give and not question it. For years, I fell into this trap, too scared of what she’d do to me. The fear itself was a weapon she wielded without having to do anything. It kept her torture constant and stole any happiness I experienced, too worried she’d pop in at any second.
In this day and age, it’s so easy to ignore the start of bullying. It’s microaggressions and trolling behind a screen, giving the bully a sense of entitlement. Online, it never ends, taking away all the safe places. There are so many wonderful things social media can be used for, but there’s just as equally a thousand ways it hurts. Much like a weed, the bullying grows and stretches past the original confines, giving the bully confidence. When nothing happens to them, they feel invincible for getting away with their crime. Soon, they amass a following, and their power expands. They can now inflict terror with a look, one word, or even a single rose.
I’m not even convinced anything will happen now; she’s too protected and intelligent to get caught, but I’m no longer willing to play her game. Maybe it will work? Maybe it will make it worse? I have no clue.
As the last seven years can attest, I don’t know how to stop it. But I’m no longer going to be a victim in my life.
I urge everyone reading this to challenge yourself, to think about how your actions affect others, and how your words might scar someone. Maybe that’s how we win, by joining together. If we can talk about it, we can change, and then we can move forward as a community.
I hope one day, cruelty will be completely gone, but until then, anyone who is bullied or has been bullied, I hope you remember this:
You are enough.
You are worth it.
Keep being uniquely you.
It’s not an easy road, and I still struggle every day. But let’s be kinder. Let’s build stronger communities with safe places for people to be themselves without judgment.
Alexander Pope said hope springs eternal. I hope it’s enough.
“Wow. I can’t believe she wrote this.” I blinked, my eyes shiny with unshed tears for the girl who’d gone through all of this alone.
“It’s what we’ve been working on for our anthropology assignment,” Cody said.
“You really care about her,” I said as shouting started.
“I didn’t do anything, Holden! Why do you even care about her? She’s nobody.”
I turned toward the group and realized Rose and Milton had joined us. I handed Cody’s phone to Rose and Milton, pointing at it for them to read, and then finished the last few steps toward Holden.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I will get to the bottom of this, Hope. It would be better if you told me now.”
“I can’t believe you’re accusing me of something. I told you she was a liar and would use you against me. I never thought I’d be right,” Hope huffed, crossing her arms in defiance. Her eye kept twitching, and I knew she was lying.
“Hope, what’s the meaning of this?” Rose asked, flashing the phone.
“Mom!” Hope said, her voice changing. At the sight of the phone, a murmur grew around the crowd and everyone pulled out their own.
“I asked you a question, Hope.” Rose’s words were harsh and even I felt the mom-wrath they held.
“I don’t know, Mommy. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“Let me see,” Holden said, taking the phone.
“Sure, just keep taking my phone,” Cody grumbled.
The crowd around us grew, more students joining with their phones lighting up their faces. Their eyes would shift from Hope to the article, then back, and the murmurs grew.
“Oh, my gosh! That’s so horrible!”
“I had no idea.”
“I feel bad for helping.”
“She seems so nice.”
Hope’s face fell, and she grabbed a phone out of someone’s hand. Holden’s hand tightened on Cody’s phone with each word he read, his anger mounting, and I worried Cody wouldn’t have a phone left by the end.
Hope began to panic, knocking phones out of people’s hands in an attempt to stop them from reading, but it was too late.
“Hope. Explain. Now,” Holden demanded in a growl.
The group of Zeta girls, Wolfettes, and football players who’d previously fawned over Hope stepped back, leaving her isolated. Hope had transformed from holding court to a deer in headlights as she glanced around the group. Everyone waited for her to explain, the whispers growing as she stood stock still.
Instead of responding, Hope took off. She pushed through students, knocking them down as she ran.
“Hope!” Holden shouted, attempting to follow her, but the cluster of students blocked him. “Hope. Wait!” Hope turned back, her dark hair flying as she ran, obscuring her face.
It was then I realized Holden wasn’t yelling for her to stop so he could question her, but for what was headed her way.
“Stop!” I shouted, my eyes wide.
It was too late.
The car hit Hope head on, and she flipped over the hood before landing on the asphalt. The black car didn’t slow down, just sped away; its fading taillights and dust were the only things it left.
Chaos erupted, and I stood frozen to the spot. I couldn’t get the image I’d seen through the windshield out of my head.
Wolfie.